However, the sun blazed in at his windows, and a bird sang in a
tree.
His temper was the temper of next day--sodden, and sullen, and
ashamed. He even resented the sunshine.
But what a beautiful creature he looked, as later he stepped into a
boat for a row on the lake! His mother, the Lady Henrietta, had truly
reason to be proud of him. So tall and straight, and fair and
strong. And at the risk of causing a second fit among some of the
critics, I must add, he probably wore silk socks, and was "beautifully
groomed," too, as all young Englishmen are of his class and age. And
how supple his lithe body seemed as he bent over the oars, while the
boat shot out into the blue water.
The mountains were really very jolly, he thought, and it was not too
hot, and he was glad he had come out, even though he had eaten no
breakfast and was feeling rather cheap still. Yes, very glad.
After he had advanced a few hundred yards he rested on his oars, and
looked up at the hotel. Then wonder came back to him, where was she
to-day--the lady with the eyes? Or had he dreamed it--and was there no
lady at all?
It should not worry him anyway--so he rowed ahead, and ceased to
speculate.
The first thing he did when he came in for lunch was to finish his
letter to Isabella.
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